The Arrival and the Reunion
by Be'Reshit
Summary: After an unexpected pregnacy, Ororo is confronted with her slipping sanity and future as an X-Man.
1. Adversary's Whim

_**Disclaimer: X-Men and all likeness there of belongs to Marvel Comics. I own nothing, and am not getting paid for this. Just when the fervor bites, fan fictions are produced.**_

_**Enjoy.**_

_**Authors note: **_

_**There are some relics that surface in this chapter taken from old issues of 'Uncanny X-Men." While this prologue is purely fictional, and expounds to a point, references of other arcs are mentioned. For those who are not so sure of what is what, I've provided a quick glossary to bring you up to par, and so the development of the true story can take root. Enjoy!**_

_**The Adversary**__**- A being of pure energy that resides only to destroy the current world and replace it with his own Chaotic one. The Cheyenne People knew of it's existence and brought up warriors to fight it, one being the Shaman Naze who has passed on this training to Native American Mutant, Forge. **_

_**As this story begins, the Adversary has taken the form of Naze and convinced Storm that Forge was possessed instead. She is now confronted with the sight of him standing in front of a portal releasing the Adversary's Demon forces to earth, unaware that he was trying to close it instead. **_

_**____The Arrival and the Reunion**__**______________________________________________________________________________**_

_**Prologue: Adversary's Whim**_

_**Eagle Plaza, Dallas Texas**_

"I am sorry, Forge, but you must be stopped.."

Storm stood pale and determined, bringing the knife down that connected to his flesh. Falling over in pain at the mouth of the swirling vortex before him, he grasped at his wound, ingulfed with disbelief at her actions. It was only then that his gaze turned to the figure beyond her.

Picking up the disillusioned look cast in Forge's wounded eyes, she turned to face Naze, who's form shifted. It was only then she realized the big mistake she had made.

The entity, who had taken the form of Forge's Shaman Mentor, Naze, laughed. As his voice laid in deep, he beckoned the disorder and calamity that the Cheyenne nation feared would one day could be unleashed on the present world.

"You've done me quite a service. This time, I cannot be stopped. The age of Chaos is here!"

In a blast of penetrating energy, both were propelled though the swollen vortex.

_**A few minutes later: **_

Forge grunted as he felt the blood saturating his shirt and then onto the moist earth below him. Moving was out of the question, but he did so anyway.

"Ororo?" He managed weakly.

It was several seconds until the rustle of movement surfaced, and white tresses belonging to the Wind-rider became visible. Brushing off the dirt from her cheek that was the product of a headfirst landing into the ground, she came to be at Forge's side.

"By the Bright lady, What have I done?"

Storm removed her vest, and then proceeded to strip down to bare skin. She tore the cloth into multiple shreds prepping them as makeshift bandages for Forge's crimson side.

"Be still," she commanded in her chocolate coated African dialect.

Forge's eyes were intently fixed on her, staring. She was aware as to why, and nonchalantly continued on with the task at hand. Without a warning, the fabric at his side was torn with zest replaced by bandages wrapped carefully. Leaning into him for better leverage, Forge drew in deep breathes hoping it would create a calming measure, and braced to keep silent.

As she finished tying the last strip, his hand came to rest on hers.

"Thank you."

As his eyes finally captured hers, he found solid fear encased within them. They marveled in hues of blue and grey, resembling a raging sea among an active tempest.

Saying nothing in return, she rose to sit upward, and doned the leather vest to cover herself. Cleaning the blood from her hands, and then wiping it into the earth below her, she brought her attentions to the landscape among them; an examination of the sky came foremost.

The pallet of the heavens created a mass of clouds in burnt sienna highlighted by hues of merging forest green and specks of black that quickly moved to blot out the remaining sunlight. Christening across the skyline in a duet of pure energy came lightning and the distant sound of thunder in reverb. All to familiar with the eerie combination the elements committed to create, she knew it was only a matter of time before the squall would churn all its might and glory into a funnel cloud upon the earth.

Two, in time, she mentally noted.

With that prospect brandishing, a survey of the landscape came next.

Looking past the pastures of green, Storm spotted the mountains that entertained shelter in the form of caves. Carefully helping Forge to his feet, leaning most of his weight onto her side, she moved over the grassy fields till they met with dirt and rock. Now inside the cave entrance, she eased him down to a sitting position as her voice reflected off the granite.

"This is going to be a long one."

Forge lowered an eyebrow with curious notion at her statement.

"It looks that way, yes."

Maneuvering into a more comfortable postion, he kept his eyes locked on her movements.

"Things will be alright. I'll just need some time to think of a solution. Possibly after the storm breaks we will be able to search out what is here."

Her body language was stoic.

" I feel nothing but darkness for miles."

Forge gruntled at intuitive nature, for she was spot on. From the Cheyenne legends of this unnatural void, known as Adversary's World, he knew all the chaos that was passing over was being transferred onto earth. He also knew that this banishment could be lasting indefinite, but refused to settle so prematurely on that eventuality. It was a fine line between lore and reality.

"The Adversary's signature. Shock-waves responding to this atmosphere. Frankly as severe as these storms may seem, if Cheyenne Legends hold true, it is a good sign. Means a part of him still resonates here."

Storm faced him. Her voice was even, low.

"It seems my actions have put us in another wonderful set of circumstances. How fortunate for you to be trapped here without anyone else for company but the woman who cant trust you and tries to kill you instead."

A slight chortle followed her cynicism. It was a side of her he had seen next to little of.

He decided to match her.

"As far as I am concerned, if that was your intent, you were more then skilled to do so."

"I guess your right. I should have used a gun. Less messy, more efficient. It is not like I can electrocute people like in good times past."

"You mean not as of present."

"Yeah, I guess your right. Sensing the storm systems comes first. At this rate, I am looking at another year before the ability to cause a drizzle manifests. Look, the rain descends now."

As if taking commands from their mistress, Forge followed her lead to gaze outside the cave. Beyond the now black sky, a descent of rain began to fall, quickly turning into a torrential downpour.

A inquisitive eyebrow lowered in her direction.

"How long has it been?"

Ororo shrugged a shoulder, crossing her arms and leaning against the rocky exterior.

"About a month. For the first few days, it was accompanied by horrible migraines. Definitely a good thing the elements did not mimic my distress for all of Upstate New York would be under a state of emergency. Besides, you did not think I would show up at your door in good spirits asking to revive our relationship, did you? If anything, I know you Maker," she paused, " And I know your the only one who can cure my condition. By the Goddess, you created it."

She paused, lowering her head as strands of hair fell in her face.

"But that is no concern now. Without anything here but us, survival is now the main concern. Getting back will be a blessing. And you have me to thank for it all."

Words Forge knew were true, but she didn't need any convincing of that.  
It had been nearly a year since his invention, the Neutralizer, did exactly that to Storm and her ability to control the elements. At death's door, he felt the ultimate responsibility to nurse her suicidal nature back to health, all the while falling in love with her. And for a time, the feeling was more then mutual. It all came crashing around him with the misunderstanding of a phone call. Being a private government contractor put him in more straights then she could ever imagine. Patents, prototypes, misuse of his designs; this case was no different, but it did not matter. She returned to lead the X-Men, void of her extremely powerful mutant gifts and yet somehow more stronger and beautiful then ever.  
Her spirit - how he admired her for it.  
But she found nothing of admiration in him.

With that thought, he sighed, but decided not to dwell too deeply on it.

The revelation of some portion of Ororo's powers slowly returning presented more then he could hope for. In time, maybe he could get them home, but that was a distant thought.

The wind from the raging tempest began to gradually increase through the opening of the cave, and as if Storm had sensed it coming, she came to be at his side. Protectively in a huddle, her arms extended around him.

"Hold me."

Forge did so cradling her to him with much care as the wind came to be a thunderous roar kicking up Debris around them.

As mother nature brought in her fury, he felt the pressure of her lips on his.


	2. Reestablishment

_**_______The Arrival and the Reunion___________**_

_**Section 1 - Departure**_

_**Chapter One - Reestabishment**_

**_A/N - Story is now getting off the ground, this is the first chapter. Enjoy, and please feel free to comment.  
_****_~Genesis_**

**________________________________________**

_**Westchester, NY**_

"Blackbird to Mansion. Prepare hangar for landing."

"Mansion to Blackbird. Affirmative. Ready for docking."

Within minutes an opening peeled from the a usual looking cliff-side allowing the the mighty jet to hover its way before disappearing back to its regular appearance. As the jet came humming to a stop and the clank of the metal loading hatch connected with the concrete, Wolverine, Storm, and Colossus began to filter out. Turning halfway to meet Beast who stood on arrival, Storm, leader of the X-Men, pulled off her gloves in a rapid succession as if the tides of hell were at her heals. Her commanding blue eyes held full attention to the excessively tall build of the blue haired mutant that approached.

"Debriefing in 15 minutes, Hank. Washington wants a full report. We'll live feed from the Media Room in one hour. Have you word from Nightcrawler, Psylocke and Rogue?"

"Affirmative, Ororo. They are on their way back from Detriot as we speak. I must admit it is more then good to see you back."

Storm said nothing but met his words with a curt nod as he began to speak once again.

"I thought you might want to look at some last minute memoirs that were faxed in this morning. A diverse roster, indeed. Governor of Texas penned, President of the American Indian Movement sends his regards, and that's not counting the pledge of adages over endorsements received since the remarkable return of Forge and yourself. Forgive my liberties, but it seems Governor Crayton wants to put on heirs a local Texan was the one to diffuse a National catastrophic disaster."

With that he handed her the mound of documents. She picked through them flippantly. Needless to say, seeing no end to the fine print led to the beginnings of a headache.

"Anythin' for party favours," Logan piped in wiping his forehead with a towel.

"Last thing the world needs is a pinhead endorsement on anythin' from Texas. All that seems to be comin' outta there are politicians strapped to oil drums using the bill of rights to wipe their asses and the gate to hell openin up releasin demons from the clear blue sky. Not much of a surprise, that last one. Really. Seems to all go with the terrain if ya ask me."

He caught the ice-like daggers Storm shot at him realizing it to be a personal insult. Weary of her reoccurring edge since returning to earth, he debated for a second whether to spar back at her but decided against it. From the primal scent that he knew to belong to the wind-rider with her restored abilities, it sent the chill of leveling any solid ground they proposed to tread upon. And solid ground was something he was appreciating after the space of the last two would be something he planned to talk to her about after all the excitement vanquished. Meanwhile, Beast spattered on without realizing he diverted what could have been an awkward silence for a space of minutes.

"Either way, It seems this is Forge's call. His broadcast will tell us soon enough what prospects he will endorse. _AIM _hopes he will see this as a route to help his fellow brethren on Reservations to concede more compensations from the government. Of course everyone knows of their private land holdings and casino monopolies, but that's a small price to pay after a mere genocide of ones race. Sadly through the ages, history has shown mankind's need to constantly destroy and hate something or another....Fascinating..."

Beast trailed off rubbing his chin as if a light bulb went off on top of his head.

"What an impact this broadcast will have -the more it is committed to thought-mutants of minority backgrounds being honoured publicly..."

"And Tin Man's linking himself to us adds to those honourable mentions," Logan decided to interject again.

"Maybe the president will be _honourable _enough to entertain the payments for a new bike. Last one was never the same since hittin that tree..."

"And Maybe a greencard for my IIlyania," Peter better known as Collusus added finally breaking his silence. The massive dark haired Russian followed with a hearty laugh.

Less amused, Storm finally spoke.

"A good court order prosecuting those tearing down random establishments just because of expected mutant involvement would be worth it in my opinion."

"Sharp shootin, 'Ro. You missed a hella'va show that went down with some mutant hatin pricks trying ta overthrow this place. It's an understatement to say we got enough Friends of Humanity, Trasks and Gyrick slim in the world to keep us on our toes."

Storm paused, taken back by the idea the mansion was attacked in her absence. It wouldn't have been the first time, the first time Scott was in charge. Somehow hearing this while she was sole head over the school brought new feelings of failure.

"The school was was attacked? Was anyone hurt--"

Logan cut her off before she had a aneurysm.

"Just a bunch of kids with sticks. I had claws. We sent them off packin' before they even knew what hit' em."

Newly distressed, she brought a hand to rest on her forehead.

At that, Hank leaned in whispering to Logan, "I thought we agreed not to mention that little mishap."

But it didn't matter, he could smell the sense of disappointment oozing from her, and it was making him uneasy. He knew at that moment and time she was blaming herself for everything and anything that could and did go wrong. The scope of what she took responsibility, even that which wasn't hers, aggravated him to no end.  
Always the perfectionist, to a blinding fault.  
Instead, he was thrown by the incredible low drop in her voice.

"I'm not around for a while and all hell breaks loose. Literally. What else have I missed? Next your going to tell me Xavier's walking, Kurt's no longer celibate, and Magneto loves humanity. What other shit has hit the fan since my departure?"

Gaping mouths, raised eye-brows, and complete and utter shock had blitzed all those in attendance. Had Ororo, impeccably dressed, eloquently spoken, defender of righteousness, Munroe cursed? In all the years everyone has known her, never has anything remotely obscene come from her. Hell, the idea of it didn't make sense. It was like putting a pig in a tutu, and after a time of readjustment, all tried to put on heirs of returning to normal. Lips that had fallen made their way to be rejoined. The saliva slowly returned so their mouths wouldn't dry out. And Storm had made a sudden realization that she definitely wasn't herself.  
Logan wanted to chuckle but settled on a subtle smirk instead. He didnt expect that one coming, not in a million years.  
He didn't know Storm to make jokes, let alone laughable ones. It was rather amusing, but frightful at the same time.  
After a time he found a way to bridge the awkward silence.

"Don't worry, 'Ro. The elf still has is vows, Xavier still has wheels, and Magento still hates everyone. What seems different though, is you. I would say runnin' round through weird portals with strange men has you off, Darlin'."

Storm moved to apologize.

"Maybe so. It has been difficult, these past few...." She paused, wondering how long it really had been. It seemed time moved so much slower in Adversary's world then it did here. Catching all the attentive looks on her, she budged for something to say before Beast had her sedated and secured in the Medical Bay.

"Weeks. It is good news to hear the school was not harmed. I am truly sorry everyone, that outburst was uncalled for. It's just there has been so much transpiring in a short amount of time. It is overwhelming to think what all needs to be done."

Beast put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"And with the hands of many it will be. No need to distress of things you cannot change, Ororo. You were there when it really counted. That should mean something. The rebuilding effort to help the most damaged areas is arranged to start tomorrow, and then we will take it as it comes."

Beast probably would added at any other time the extent of billions in damage and the unconfirmed causality count that was still rising due to flooded areas, but opted not to. Storm's eyes grew downcast.

"Maybe one day during our lifetime, we can wake up to see the Professor's dream realized. But, somehow, I find myself unable to hold my breath on that one."

"I don't think any of us would, Ororo," Beast agreed. "But in the least, these events would do to help put a favourable light in the public on peaceful human-mutant relations.

"Speaking of the Professor, he sent a telepathic impression congratulating your success in dealing with the threat, and officially welcoming Forge into the X-Men. He will be wired in while we make our statements to the President. Sadly to inform, no word on when he will return from Muir Island."

Storm raised an eyebrow.  
If America under a state of emergency didn't rise him from that place, then nothing would. A bit irritated, she spoke hiding it.

"Somehow I was not expecting any different news."

_Even among the fact that I've been missing from earth for an in-disclosed period of time, and then it came to be under a supernatural threat; the rest of the X-Men were in danger, the bloody school was attacked. Not mention it being six months since Scott ran out for the second time on us, and marking a year since Jean's death. Why would you ever think about wanting to come console us? _She fought against the thoughts that brought another surge of anger tying a knot in her stomach but hid it well in fear of rousing them with another outburst they couldn't stomach.

"Whatever he is working on there has him quite stationed."

"Ah, Shi'ar technological advancements. It's a wonder to be among for sure! I will be happy to rejoin Moira and Charles in help with some further discoveries regarding the light spectrum of their hydromechanics but the problems here at home seem to have delayed that. In the meantime, Forge and I plan to install new upgrades for the stealth mode setting on the blackbird. I cannot hide the fact that it is an honour to have one of the minds who created _SHIELD's _Hellicarrier here to conspire and plan with."

Storm wanted to roll her eyes at the idea of putting priorities on alien space toys over basic human survival, but chose not to. It didn't matter anyway. Beast still chatted on in complete ecstasy about various wonderment's like a child dropped off at Toys'R'Us in Times Square. But Logan's thoughts shifted elsewhere.

He couldn't help but wonder why such a prominent man like Forge who had a more then successful career as a government contractor would ever make the less then humbling move to join a renegade band of mutants who fought for human-mutant peace. Granted he only met the guy a handful of times, but something told him Forge wasn't one to follow ideologies, especially those of what Professor Xavier came off as private person, even loner to an extent.  
He suspected nothing less from someone who went to great lengths in creating a cloaking devise for his compound with the aim to blot out most human contact.

But something about his decision of joining the X-Men did make sense, and he knew it involved the woman who was standing right next to stares he bore into Ororo days prior, he could smell the passion leaping off Forge; his primal hot blood mixing needs with lust. He knew them well because it was a basic animistic urge, something as raw as the Artic's chill. And Wolverine knew all about about the beast within and the urges that accompanied it, especially when the opposite sex was concerned.  
While Ororo's recognition of that revelation remained hard to place, he didn't bother to expound upon the idea. Something about it didn't sit well with him.  
But that was neither here nor there.  
Ororo was family.  
And if Forge tried anything remotely funny, he was going to get his ass beat, butchered and buried.

It was several seconds before Logan returned to earth to catch Beast spouting something about the price of wheels in Spain. And with that decree, he knew he hadn't missed much. It was then the skyline opened from above them kicking up a tunnel of air that brought the remaining X-Men outside the hangar to continue their conversations soon to be dispersed.

"Enough of all this rompin' fun social time. We got things to do people. I'll page the Cajun, and see y'all in an hour."

At Logan's dismissal, Beast and Peter made their exits. Storm smiled at the way he handled that before taking leave herself. Feeling a light wave of nausea overwhelming her, she jumped at the unexpected hand placed on her shoulder.

"Everything okay, 'Ro?"

Logan's eyes examined hers, his keen senses ever in operation.

"Yes, Logan, I am fine."

"I hope so, darlin'. If your in the mood for talkin a little later, I'll be around."

Touched by his offer of solitude, she smiled kindly. He really had grown to be one of her close friends in the past year, and with much thought, she more then appreciated it.

"Thank you. I'll keep it in mind."

With that, he watched as she walked off into one of the intermingling hallways before disappearing out of view. Not too long after, voices of the recently landed X-Men proceeded behind him.

___________________________________________________

The hour had come and gone since the live-wire feed to Washington explained the chaos of the last two weeks. The mention of the supernatural being called the Adversary revisited a nation still in mourning, hopefully soon to healing.

The grim details began with reports of the flaming brand of fire and sulphur descending from the heavens, destroying inane amounts of property and wounding many, ending in causalities. Starting in the Southern United States, it quickly began until it reached both coasts of the country. Following that came the extension of the hyper-storms; causing landslides, severe squalls of lightning and thunderstorms that produced devastating tornadoes; all triggered without meteorological sense to a point of origin. Countless homes were destroyed, sources of clean water were contaminated, and major industries of business found themselves out financial losses.

In the pandemonium, Religious fanatics took to the street crying out sermons of the end being at hand, while anti-mutant terrorists started rallying the need for extermination for all mutants everywhere. Sadly they quickly grew enough momentum to cause more chaos on top of the main threat. Public places were bombed at random, people were jumped if they looked different, a school in upstate New York barely escaped a disorganized threat. Various worldwide organizations and mutant groups assembled by request from the American Government to help quiet the rioting but it wasn't to any avail.  
Complete anarchy took to many major American Cities.

When Naze finally was able to reach the X-Men to inform them of the disappearance of their leader, Storm, he expressed Forge was the key to defeating the means for all this chaos called the Adversary.  
As if a sign from heaven, Forge and Storm amazingly reappeared. While it was a miracle to the X-Men, the rest of the world remained ignorant to fact of their otherworldly banishment and the true underlining source of the demonic threats.

Recognizing the efforts of the X-Men in dealing with the anti-mutant rallies, the Government called them in to help. It was with favourable news Forge said he could. While Storm did what she could regarding the onslaught of elemental anomalies that battered the immediate area, Forge prepared himself for the spiritual warfare that he would soon encounter.  
With livid concentration, he tapped into the deepest ounce of his shamanic gifts. After a grueling struggle on that spiritual battleground, wafting and searching numerous spells, a portent discovered within his magical abilities began to finally contain the Adversary. In a space of hours, storms Ororo couldn't reach began to cease completed by a brilliant light that was reported to have been seen from space.

The nation waited silently to see if the inevitable had been achieved.  
Had sanity returned America? As Forge approached the commander and chief of the United States, the answer came back positive. It was followed with multiple celebrations. There were cries of joy all throughout the country as that answer had been realized. On the second full day free of disturbances, Forge left behind using his shamanistic talents ever again to seal the Adversary indefinitely.

More then relieved, the Government felt it necessary to hold a public address praising Forge and the X-Men for their efforts bringing an end to the weeks of chaos. With the news, most of the rioting settled although a few groups sprung pronouncing it all to be a cleverly planned ruse by the mutant population themselves.  
There would always be a few.

It wasn't too long after the national address, arrangements were being prepped to send in help for the most concentrated disaster regions, Dallas Texas being the all the commotion, it was no surprise Forge felt himself unable to sleep since he arrived in Washington D.C. The last forty-eight hours had been nothing but chaos to him, in stride with the media, press, interviews, torrents of organizations requesting endorsements, and general curiosity from any other parties not mentioned. He reasonably dealt with the onslaught in patience and grace, but was glad to see the the sun finally set, and the moon rising in the sky.  
It meant the National Address, his last scheduled public appearance, was over.  
_Praise the Great Mother Goddess of Earth and Sky_, he thought.

In a kind gesture, accommodations to Forge were personally met by the president himself although he retracted the initial offer of taking it up. Leaving a message with one of the secretaries at the White House, he left a cordial note of gratitude explaining he had matters to tend to but would be available if needed. Truth be told, another night in a strange hotel with paparazzi stalking the lobby was something that violated on his spacial requirements.  
And that was something he didn't take kindly too.  
He was a private man by nature, and never liked attention.  
Getting out of there was something essential.

On that accord, he used his Image transmit er to take the guise of a law enforcement officer and then used the cover of night to reach his jet that had been lingering in stealth mode. Soon coordinates were set to Westchester, New York.  
The jet descended over a collective flood of lights that belonged to D.C.'s skyline. Gazing upon them, he started to gather his thoughts. It really would have made sense to stay the night and get what sleep he could but somehow after forty-eight hours without, it didn't matter. He was riding on nerves and loosely reasoned it would be enough to get him to Westchester in one piece. And if not, the advanced auto-pilot system program he had installed days before gave it the capability to land on it's own if need be.  
Sometimes being a genius had it's perks.

On the 'morrow, the plan consisted of swimming into downtown Dallas to see what remained of Eagle Plaza. According to everything, a good portion of the city was flooded. Fortunately, he had positive thoughts the hub of his lab was still intact due to it's reinforced structure designed to combat hurricanes as powerful to reach category five status.  
But he put it out of his mind.  
Even if were the opposite, there was nothing he could do about now.  
That would be saved for tomorrows anxieties, tomorrows surprises, tomorrows problems.  
Today's were spent.  
The only thing his mind could conjure up at present was entrancing blue eyes, caramel skin, and hair pure as the colour of snow.

And it was the most pleasant reoccurring thought to come to him all day.  
He left his mind running on how how quickly the tides of life changed for him.  
Offhandedly at first to something bleak, and then into something wondrous.

He thought back to Adversary's banishment.  
A horrible start.  
He remembered the numbing pain in his side from the stab wound she inflicted, the never ending rain that pelted him, and the tornadoes that trapped them inside their cave dwelling. It had taken a grueling ten hours before a very claustrophobic Storm, rock by rock, clawed and dug her way to break the surface of the affecting avalanche production. In and out by delusions of pain,the legion of tears shed left indelible marks in his heart. It was like sheer torture, and after he was well, he promised himself she would never cry like that again.

By that time, Forge's side began to bleed anew, seemingly becoming infected.  
The ever resilient wind-rider put her trauma away and scouted the landscape for herbs and food, bringing back what little was found.  
She nursed him as best as could be done. And on days it would rain, she would gather extra portions.  
It was days before the fever leveled.  
Between the visions they brought, he could remember her voice speaking consoling words.  
Revealing her guilt.  
Sharing memories of long ago.  
Revelations of her feeling.  
A mirage of her life.  
He never forgot them.  
He never forgot that she had saved his life.

When the time came that his side was healed, they set out to explore more of the land. They found it empty, void, and growing ever more peaceful by the the rains and thunder rarely came, their hope of returning home began to diminish, but in perfect sense, the paradise they stumbled was something more beautiful a reality to keep.  
They had admitted their love for one another. He had gotten to hold her, to see what it was like for her to be his, and never in his life had anything been more perfect.  
But she also knew, for every kiss and smile they shared, someone else was shedding a tear; reeling in distress.  
And like inner fibers that builds her strong character, he knew she couldn't live with herself inside that false sense of utopia.  
No matter how happy it made her.  
They had to get back.  
Set right what was wrong.  
And inside, he hated that part about her.  
But it was something that made her feel complete, so he quietly bended to her enough engineering thought of using saved technology in his bionic leg, he was able to restore her abilities.

She reveled to be the Goddess once more, calling down and manipulating the elements at her biding. Never had she been so more alive, or so free.  
She was home.  
And in those moments, he felt a piece of her slip away from him.  
Soon the created massive storm began to draw energies to opening a way back to earth.

The Earth.  
He shuddered to think of it. That world brimming with chaos and world they call the reality.  
A world worth fighting for.  
A world worth living for.  
A world worth dying for.  
Truth be told, he felt nothing but regret since returning.  
It was nothing less then he expected it to be, another battleground complete with movement, revolution and causalities.

Fighting one vendetta and motive cost him his sanity, along with his leg and hand a long time ago.  
Those virtues is what had laid him a cripple.  
For some people, a battle is never over.  
But for him, it ended with that fateful explosion. With friends that came home in body bags. With tears shed by widows and single mothers.  
Men's mere causes are only words deep, and he grew weary of following anyone Else's doctrines.  
And the thought he gave up the reestablished garden of Eden with his Eve was enough to want to make him reel.

He felt his eyes watering, but pushed against it.  
He was tired and delusional. He was drained, and much spent.  
The only thing that gave him a purpose in all of this mess was knowing Ororo still wanted to be called his.  
And he hoped that the cryptic nudge of doubt he felt in his chest was just a reaction to his nerves and nothing more.

*************************

Logan sat on the grass feeling the cold air hit him in the face.  
Taking a dramatic swig of his beer, he grunted with pleasure as the mixture of hops and barley ran down his throat.  
It was late.

He knew everyone most likely turned in for the night with a firebrand of enthusiasm. Saying it had been a long day was an understatement, and tomorrow didn't promise any rest and relaxion either. He had never been happier in his life when the feed carrying him and his fellow teammates live to billions of televisions worldwide was terminated. And saying it was "a most uncomfortable experience" as Kurt deemed it, did none to merit how strong the feeling of ones privacy being invaded was.  
It took every ounce of restraint he posessed not to pulling the plug early or con Storm into causing an accidental power surge.

While the thought of sleep did come as a useful idea, he wasn't tired.  
Instead, he turned his attentions to the heavens.  
The moon was out; full and illuminating.  
Only the strongest of flaming stars remained to serve as allies.

And there he sat in the clearing beyond the woods that surrounded the mansion's grounds, to take in the view.  
It was one of his favourite spots, discovered shortly after arriving at Xavier's school. Here he found it easy to meditate, reflect, think, or forget -which ever seemed to fit- the chaos that accompanied his life. And since the crisis of world destruction had been contained, he found the time to simply watch a peaceful sky once again.

As the winds began to pick up, a familiar scent caught his nose; one of fresh earth and rain; mingled with the lull of Egyptian musk. It was an intoxicating blend he knew only to belong to Ororo. Half expecting to see her, it was several minutes until her silhouette fleshed out into a tall, slender and built form.  
Flying in on a final gust of wind her feet met with the ground.

"Evening, Logan." Her voice was deep, sensual as she greeted him.

She stood only wearing long sheer fabric that extended her form, tied together loosely at her waist while a good section extended up to her thigh. It was enough for certain parts of of him to tingle and without hesitation, he took in the view, returning her salutation.

"I am sorry to disturb you. I guess the restless are of one mind."

He smiled as the moon reflected her white hair like a silver shining mane.

" Maybe so 'Ro. Midnight flyin' again?"

"I guess one could say that. It's been too long since I have been able to do this. It's liberating to feel the elements surging through me once again."

Logan smirked.

"Well you left here originally with that plan. World domination and other- dimension banishment's aside, ad-least that worked out."

"Yes."

Storm's features seemed to fade into deep shadows along with a deception of creeping melancholy.

"Logan, I wanted to apologize personally to you about my actions back there in the hangar. It was uncalled for, and I am more then grateful you were here, above anyone else, to guard and protect the students and school when it was needed most."

Logan shifted, taking in her view.

" Don't mention it, darlin. For all fact, this is my home too."

Logan paused as his own words hit him and without a second regret, he found he truely meant them. Storm laid a calm smile.

"How true those words are, Logan."

"So what is it 'Ro?"

She understood his meaning. No further explanation was needed.

"It looks like I need to work on regulating my emotions once again. I fear that outburst was nothing more then a lack of control. In the last year I had no need to hide my feelings. I had no restraints holding me back. I could cry, laugh, and feel the most fervent anger without the fear of destroying the eastern seaboard. In a strange way, it was nice. I hope you can bear with me as I work on getting back to normal."

Logan extended to take her hand in his. Her skin was more then soft; gentle to the touch, but he could detect strength behind it evenly as well.  
It was a tender gesture that sent a glowing warm feeling down him.

"Cagin' the beast once again can take some time. Take it from a pro darlin, if cracking funny ones and lashin out with second-rate curses is your anger, then the eastern seaboard is in luck."

Smiling, she leaned in and embraced him like close friends do. Fighting a second wave of passion that hit him, he took in a deep breath which she probably had noticed but didnt question. The woman had no inkling as to how her alluring appearance and touch could rouse a man while sated under a full moon.

"Thank you for your understanding. It means more to me then you realize."

"Your understanding comes easily enough, 'Ro. It's the calmin effect about you that I like and you'll find that soon enough again."

There was a pause of silence for several seconds when their embrace was cut short by a roaring sound that filled the skies above them. A jet had appeared in lights starting to descend not far from where they were. As it flew over, and past them, Ororo looked on before she returned her attentions back to Logan.

"That is Odd. Must be Forge but I was not expecting to see him for another few days."

Logan crossed his arms over his chest and tried not to scowl at the mention of his name. It was no surprise, ad-least to him, why he was back so soon. Had Ororo really not known the reasons why either? He took her as being one of the more intuitive people he meant in his life and found that reality hard to swallow.

"Maybe he missin' somethin."

Ororo eyed him questioningly.

"What do you mean by that?"

Retracting his initial thoughts, he was starting to feel she really didn't have an inkling or clue, so he pressed the issue onward, feeling her out.

"Simply what it means. Whats this about him joinin us anyway?"

Storm moved to speak hoping she could justify a response that wouldn't pose another question.

"Like anyone else that comes along, I suppose. It is not beyond one to fill a need and join to help a cause as noble as Xavier's."

Logan laughed out loud, which brought a look of disdain from her pronounced facial features. Heaven forbid, she really didn't have a clue.

"What is so humorous?" She demanded.

"Oh that man's got a cause for bein here alright, and it aint Chuck's, 'Ro."

She decided to press the issue no further which registered to him that she got it, finally.

" Then believe what you will."

And at that she bid him a brief goodnight, and flew into the clouds beyond the wall of trees that lined the forest leaving him with a lowered eyebrow.

No, she wasn't ignorant, he concluded.  
Better yet, quite the opposite.  
She was hiding something.  
And with that mystery on the back of his mind, he started up back to the mansion.

***

It was nearly fifteen minutes before he made his way back to the front door and quietly crept past the student dorms until he reached the more accessible rec room. En Route to the kitchen, he caught sight of Forge winding through the hallways apparently trying to get his bearings. It wasn't long before Forge saw Logan too.  
With all senses alert, Logan took in the broad and tall dark skinned man that approached him. He wasn't a bad looking guy, by manly standards.

"Logan, is it?"

His voice resounded pronounced and distinguished in a low moniker that identified his Native American heritage well.

"Yeah," Logan said shortly.

"Lost?"

Forge pulled a few unruly strands of his thick bountiful long hair away from his eyes and was then Logan could see a faint hint of circles that formed around them.

"Yeah. This place is a bit excessive in size."

Logan arched an eyebrow.

"Well it houses fifty students on-top of adult dorms and the X-Men tranin' rooms. The space is more a necessity. Come to think of it, I hear you have a six story compound all yourself. Now, to me, is a bit excessive, bub."

Forge narrowed his eyes. It wasn't even fifteen minutes into being here and his enemies were already declaring themselves. He didn't need this tonight.

"Yeah, whatever you say."

At that, he continued past Logan and decreed he would find his own way, or better yet, Ororo's room. It would do nice to feel her in his arms again as he slipped off into a much needed slumber.  
It was then he heard the rather short man's voice thrown in his direction.

"Fourth room to the right down the second hallway."

He paused turning back around to look at him.

"All the X-Men on the same floor?"

"For the most part."

"Ororo as well? I leave in less then eight hours and wanted to speak with her early tomorrow morning. Would help to know where to go."

Logan met him eye to eye.

" 'Ro's an early riser. She'll probably find you before you find her."

Ro? He took in the weird nickname with inquiry before casting a disconcerting brow. He would talk to Ororo soon enough about the nature of this paranoid, defensive and excessively jealous creature on the morrow but he definitely wasn't in any mood to confront it tonight.

"Then it is settled. Good night."

He turned around to walk away before Wolverine flung something else back at him.

"I find it interesting your back already, two days ahead of schedule. Whatever you forgot must have been mighty important."

Forge didn't bother to turn around, or justify his reasons but responded all the same.

"And when I leave again, it will still here. If you run across it, try to leave it the way you found it . If you don't, then we might have a problem."

Even though a deep exhaustion was detected in his voice, the edge of a man that would defend what he thought was rightfully his perked out with adamant force.

"We'll see about that one, bub."

"Yes, indeed we will."

Walking up behind him till his breath was intimidating on the back of his ear, he spoke low and menacing, the beast in him coming to ahead, but still controlled.

"I wouldn't push me if I were you. You'd do well to remember it."

Without so much a rise coming from Forge, he brushed off the words and continued down the hallway like nothing or anything said could phase him .  
And reading keenly into his arrogant self-assured nature about the situation brought Logan to question it all the more so.

It wasnt long after that he caught a whiff of earth and rain coming from the nearby staircase and realized that's where the answer to this mystery would lie.


	3. Descent

_**_______The Arrival and the Reunion___________**_

_**A/N: Sorry for the wait, but hope it is worth it.  
Just wanted to let anyone know while this story is taking place after the return from Adversary's World, there might be a few other references, characters, and story plots mentioned beyond.  
Hope everyone will enjoy.**_

**_Also, I apologize for some of the incoherent sentences in the last chapter. While they were not written that way, it seems I am still getting used to the way the up-loader processes the format.  
I will try and proofread better for everyones sake._**

**_Comments and recommendations are welcome.. but try not to tear that badly into me :)_**

**_Cheers!_**

_**________Chapter 2__________  
Descent**_

Ororo sprung out of her bed to the sound of thunder and rain. Sweat ran down her forehead profusely, her breathing at a ragged timbre.  
The darkness had came for her, entrapped her.  
She was terrified.

The lightning and rapid winds threatening to shatter the tossing double-glassed doors that lead to her balcony were some of the first visible signs of that very fact.  
It soon was accompanied with nausea; a sick feeling that gripped the most inward parts and threatened release with the slightest of movements. The winds did none to cease their furry for they continued to howl for her.  
She clenched her eyes shut.

_Concentrate. Control._

She played out that mantra in her mind as the bed-frame dragged across the floor.

_Concentrate. Control_. She beckoned fervently.

It seemed an eternity passed before a peaceful white light embrace her, vanquishing the darkness, and solid ground was reestablished.  
The nausea passed as well and it was only then she opened her eyes, dared to move.  
The full moon peered into her room, illuminating well it enough.  
She sighed heavily as she took in the damages of her early morning trepidations.

Her bed rested inches from slamming through the balcony, with furniture overturned and the vanity condiments sprawled across the floor.  
Pushing herself off the mattress she darted down below hoping the outside didn't mimic her wrecked living space. From as far as the eye could see, all was in order. The depressing skies retreated, the rain was but a small drizzle, and the wind as mild as a summer's night. No uprooted trees, no broken windows, no trashed cars, no displaced children, no power surges. Praise be small miracles. At that she summoned a strong wind thrashing her bed back against the wall, followed by another that concentrated all the loose debris into a pile and secured the heavy balcony doors. The makeshift clean-up would hold for now, and, if anything, it gave her an excuse to remodel like she has been threatening to do for the past two years.

Ororo sighed regaining her center of balance and trying to pull the fear-inspiring nightmare from her mind.  
What was that? She couldn't recall a time a vision made her physically ill, and at that thought, momentarily recoiled inwardly.  
The last thing she needed was to have a mental breakdown on the precipice of her return with a million things readily waiting to be dealt with - school priorities, security system upgrades, search, rescue and recovery missions galore, and, she sighed again, feeling if possible, all the more overwhelmed.  
Conning a co-existence between Logan and Forge.

If last night's pow-wow she had overheard was any indication of things to come, that would soon be a full fledged mess.  
She took in some solace to realize Forge would be preoccupied for the rest of the week down south, and that would give her some time to talk with her second in command, and try to gain some reasoning ground with him.  
She vowed to herself she would sort it soon, soon.

Looking to the clock, she sighed. 4:42.

The night was lost. She retreated to the shower, lingering a little longer then usual to make up for lost sleep and fried nerves before finishing her business there and dressing. Pausing for a second to gather her clothes and readjusting the vanity, she decided on skipping the morning lounging attire and dress for the day. It was going to be a long one and this would save time. Donning leather pants, a white form-fitting shirt of modest cut, and combat boots, she spent some time combing her locks neatly before tying her long hair on top of her head, leaving loose a few of the layers in front. Dissatisfied, she paused. Rummaging through the the draw of her vanity that remained intact from the tumble, she pulled out her legendary crown she remembered wearing upon first joining the X-Men. Placing it carefully on her head, she stared at herself for a second, pondering the cycles of rebirth.  
The thief.  
The goddess.  
The teacher.  
The leader.  
The rebel.  
She found neither one thing completed her, but were all pieces of what made her complete.  
Besides, she always considered it a idol of control; a sense of stability and independence, and after the nightmares sparking the day, she welcomed those things.  
Throwing on some gold bangles, and makeup, she plucked her leather vest from the floor where it settled and made it downstairs away from her tattered attic abode.

Walking the hallways, she was amazed to find such peace and quiet among the student dorms. Almost too weird, she offered to herself mentally reflecting on the freak-thunderstorm that sounded like a freight train crashing through the compound walls. Maybe it was more contained then she thought it to have been, but lingering no more on it, she silently thanked the goddess for not having to deal with that responsibility of children this early.  
She finally made her way to the kitchen heating up the kettle and pulling out an herbal remedy to calm her unusual stomach when, much to her surprise, red encased eyes looked up at her from the door-frame.

"Stormy night, Chere?"

Turning inside and closing the door, he smiled with coy intentions looking Ororo's dressed form up and down. If it were anyone else staring like that she was more then certain they'd be on their backsides and unconsciousness. But it was Remy, and although he was the most shameless flirt to manifest on the Eastern Seaboard, it didn't bother her. They were connected on many levels the other X-Men couldn't understand. In creeds, in shared pasts, and in unbending loyalties toward each other.  
She proceeded to give him a look of motherly reproof followed by a suggestive smirk.

"You have no idea my dear Remy. It seems you've had a night of it yourself..."

It was her turn to stare as his damp hair rolled water onto the back of his trench that reeked of boos and smoke.  
Another late night venture, she mused. She could only imagine details after remembering the times they shared in Orleans.  
Ever intuitive, he raised an eyebrow almost pulling out her thoughts from the air.

"Oui, Petite. Maybe one day Stormy come wit Remy...he show her a good time again, eh?"

Storm sipped slowly on her tea, acting as if she was thinking on his request but instead grimaced over that horrible nickname he seemed so determined to keep using.  
_That_ name. She said nothing although the fight of dislike still surged in her mind.

"It appears my description of "a good time" has changed in the last few years. But if I am ever in the mood to skip town, frequent every _Sitting Bull_from Louisiana to Florida while taking out a few banks in the process, then you'll be the first to know." Anyone else would have perceived that as harsh judgment, but in the case of Remy he just laughed. Nostalgia; good times rehashed.

"Stormy's a natural, " he admired.

She smiled with him before turning the tides of the conversation.

"So, about keeping out of general _trouble, _I gather there's no particular reasons you've dodged the the radar in the past few weeks?"

" None Stormy don' understand already, "He offered, "Petite know Remy does not'in for the likes of Logan. Remy don' see what Stormy sees in him."

Ororo observed the careful way his eyes made it difficult to detect any raw emotion, but knew all to well what he was feeling.  
It had almost been six months since Remy joined the X-Men due to Ororo's convincing rally and helped them defeat a few notable adversaries only to still get second guessed about everything he did. His background of thieving, shamelessly flirting with anything walking, disappearing for days on end, and occasionally getting cornered by angry debt collectors at the worst possible times did nothing to woo their trust. But some things were just Remy and wouldn't change because certain people had problems with it.

The distrust level was particularly intense when it came to Wolverine. It seemed on more then plenty occasions the only thing keeping a collision of adamantium claws and kinetic charges at bay was Ororo's presence. And after the lack of that for two weeks, it was no surprise Remy went AWOL.  
The conversations she had between Logan over Remy's character were perpetually burned into her brain.

"Look, I know it's been difficult, but for my sake, stay around for a bit. Not disappearing might help mend uneasy relations "

She smiled warmly, but Remys featured remained arched. The serious look etched in face began to make her worry. Had she missed some underlining keynote in his address?

"What?"

"Remy knows Stormy 'dont talk about what happened while she was away," he offered." Or Maybe you don' want to remember."

Storm paused, unsure why he decided to flip the conversation. Her attention darted in space thinking through the truth in his words. Had she really said absolutely nothing about the events that transpired while gone? The more she examined it, that had been the case. But there was literally no time to tell everyone yet, she offered. Lost in thought, she was brought back with the wave of Remy's hand in front of her face. Landing her eyes once more on his, she looked up and smiled realizing her distraction.

"Sorry Remy, I'm still adjusting to earth."

He eyed her with fervent curiosity.

"Now Remy confused. Stormy's diff'rent. Very diff'rent.." He stressed, all amusement sealed from his tone.

Storm turned toward her tea again, burring her creeping fear of the darkness in the hot steam.

"Yeah, I feel different," She readily agreed.

"Nevermind that now. It's good to be home. I have missed you, Remy."

At that, she sealed his concern with a passionate embrace that he could only return without question.  
As if on cue, the door brushed open, revealing a tall long haired man with a mood that shifted like the north wind.  
Looking up, Ororo spotted him, releasing Remy.

"Forge," she said with enthusiasm, rising to greet him.

Without a further thought, he nodded in cold notion, reversing his direction before she had a chance to say anything more.  
Momentarily confused, she went to intercept him in the hallway, but he was already paces in front of her. Unwilling to call after him in fear of rousing the kids, she took to the air, landing paces on top of his. The hallways were dimly lit as she took in the darkness his eyes mesmerized.  
He was upset, angry even. Looking at her briefly, he moved past her, stalking back up the hallway.  
Relentless, she followed him until they both were back in his room.

"Forge?" She sounded confused, lost even.

He growled in displeasure, eying her shamefully.

"What was that?" He said in a deep moniker.

"What was what?" She defended. "Remy?"

"Whatever," he offered flippantly.

She felt a sting of indigence surging through her.

"Well whatever what? You got a problem with Remy?"

She wanted to laugh at that absurd thought on it's own merits.

That seemed to spark more of a response then downcast eyes and misplaced grunts.

He took her by both hands with much force, pulling her toward him. After her face was inches from his, he kissed her long and hard. It lacked any motion of love, or care but a cold need. As he forced his tongue down her throat nearly making her gag, he sucked on the inside of her lip biting down. In response, he could feel the stifled grunt Ororo emitted in his mouth as she tried prying herself free. Without success, he continued to crush her to him, digging into her arms with more force then she cared to feel. It became a pain, an invasion.  
And he wasnt letting her come up for air.  
She started to gag, gasping in need of freedom.  
As the tight space began to close in, panic spread through like wildfire releasing an electrical surge that sent him flying through the air and across the bed before slumping onto the floor. As he got to his feet breathing erratically, his eyes tore through her with fear and anger.  
She coughed a few times, gulping in the air, her demeanor firm.

"What the hell was that?!" Forge demanded in a furious tone.

Storm could taste the blood forming inside her mouth as were he nipped her. The man lost his mind.

" I don't know, you mind telling me???" she pronounced in a tone that grew more angry by the minute.

"Damn it, Wind-Rider. I travel all this way to see you ad-least one more time this week and what am I greeted with? Death threats from a lovesick attack dog...and you? God knows where, gallivanting out all night with that womanizing dirt-bag. And then you have the audacity to ask me if I have a problem with him? Why can't you be straight with me? Why is it all of a sudden your the victim and I'm the villain here?"

Storm heard none of his words, none of his reasoning, none of his convictions.

"What nonsense you speak....Don't... Don't you dare try and turn this around. Just...just shut up before I---"

Forge felt his eyes roll back as he cut her off.

"Okay, I shut up. I'll shut up and say nothing. I'll have no opinion, no feelings, no remorse, no pride. I'll just come around whenever you feel the need to summon me. Need something to be fixed. Need someone to be with. But in the meantime, I will cease to be anything but what you want me to be. And if I'm not, help yourself! Call down cyclones! Zap me at your own will! Do whatever you feel you need to do if it makes you angry enough. How's that, Wind-Rider?"

Words didn't come to her. Something about Forge's presence drew all rational thought and replaced it with rage and frustration.  
In Adversary's word void of other people, their relationship wasn't tested as to the facts of social interaction, and after seeing the first results of his, it threw her to wonder what she had agreed to. She had no idea he had such a jealous nature with the potential to become violent and the thought more then scared her.

"Do you always jump to conclusions before asking the facts? " Her voice was firm with an edge, her eyes an icy hue of cobalt diminishing slowly into a entrenching white.

At that, Forge turned meeting her unstable gaze, his eyes holding more anguish and pain then she cared to admit. It was an expression of someone ripping his very own heart from his chest and it sent chills through her. His black eyes reflected a deep sense of dissension; like the darkness that mimicked her nightmares, and threatened to rip the skies right open. A few strands of his ebony tresses fell into his face for concealment resulting in the connection she felt diminishing.  
He spoke low and deep, almost broken.

"We lived a thousand lifetimes, Windrider. I cannot doubt that reality and ad least confirm those facts. It wouldn't do good to apologize now for my behaviour for I fear I've inconvenienced you long enough..."

Without a second glance he made his way to the door. As he looked up, he was met with red eyes glowing a demon red on him. Forge returned the gesture with a look that could have bent steel. The tension grew to a blinding fault as Remy kept one ample hand ready to detonate the ace of spades he was holding. It did nothing to ruse Forge better yet, he stood to his full height, bumping his chest against the Cajun's.

"This isn't over."

Remy was second from throwing a charge as he responded.

"It will be if you don' get out'ta here."

Forge stared at him ready to throw a punch while Remy stood ready to return the favour. Within seconds, Ororo emerged, grabbing Remy and pulling him away from what would have been a big confrontation.

"Just go."

Although low, her tone came across as more then commanding.

Forge lingered on Ororo's arm that clung to Remy's trench-coat and felt another surge pain and anger arise as he overrode the need to lash out.

"Who needs to ask facts."

With those final words, he stared on last time at Ororo and then disappeared down the hallway. Minutes went by before the sound of a jet ascending grew dim and out of earshot.  
Silence pervaded the empty hallway as the grief being emitted from Ororo's sharp features became unable to dismiss.  
She could feel a creeping feeling of the room starting to spin but braced against Remy for balance. Without hesitation, his arms encircle her as she buried her head deep into his chest. While he hadn't heard sobs, her body trembled with spasms. Her resolve gone, her will broken, he continued to hold her until she became quiet. With the spasms all but gone, he tilt her head to find a deep slumber embraced her. It was probably for the best, he silently thought as he picked her up and returned to the room laying her on the bed.

He watched for several minutes as her chest heaved in and out and she started to toss and turn before peering out the window in darkness.  
The sunrise was still an hour off from approaching but in the distance he could hear a soft roll of thunder moving in.  
And while she refused to shed her tears, the rain that began to roll down the glass more then compensated.

His Stormy didn't need anyone making her feel this way.  
Who really was this Forge person anyway?  
Angered at the idea anyone could hurt her so miserably without a thought, he compulsively shuffled his cards from one hand to another before throwing them down. As they fell to a cryptic spiral on the middle eastern rug, he got up, kissed Ororo on the forehead and slid out the window with ease between the drops of early morning rain.

There was a score that needed to be settled and Gambit wasnt going to leave this one to chance.

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Ororo's public return among the students of Xavier's institute was greeted with endless questions and affectionate gestures later that morning with the bulk of it emitting from Kitty and Jubilee. Both had latched onto her giggling, laughing and conversing of anything and everything that she missed in her absence.  
Among the report was praises of Wolverine's awesome slash and dashing against the the would-be-invaders to the school, existing without food for days because Rogue kept forgetting to go by any, and a new kid who arrived calling herself Marrow that liked to start all kinds of fights. After an hour discussion with the two, Ororo coaxed them away with the promises of investing in food and dealing with the new arrival's attitude issues.

True to her word, she caught sight of Rogue leisurely playing a game of pool with Peter in the game room. After an quick exchange and some looks of reproof, she sent them both off on the dangerous mission to bring eats back. Willing to comply, Peter stopped the game almost immediately leading Ororo to believe he wasn't much of a poolshark. She watched as Rogue followed, exchanging light banter to his side. It would ad least keep her from looking for Remy in the meantime.

Ororo barely remembered the mornings fine details. Recalling the argument with Forge and successfully breaking up what could have been a nasty confrontation between them, she didn't remember when she blacked out. Although returning to conciseness before anyone else, it did little to know where Remy had run off to although she had her suspicions. She braced inwardly at the idea he was now the only one who knew of the relationship she held with Forge, or did have, and worried about his mental stability on the matter. Pausing for second to think back on Forge and his acute possessive actions that made her angry and melancholy all in the same breath, she still felt a sense of deep loss.  
Even though the pain ebbed in her soul, she had no inkling to see or speak of him for a good long while. And if he tried to, Goddess help her if she didn't fry him where he stood.  
She was a firm believer in taking heed to warning signals, and shuddered to think what he could have done if she wasn't well endowed with the talent of calling down lightning.  
In truth, that was her only saving grace and defense from his forced advances. And with that thought it terrified her anew knowing he created the technology to strip her of her abilities if he became vindictive enough. Unable to control the chills it sent through her, she hoped wherever Remy had gone wasn't too far and he would be back soon.  
Clearly distressed, she pressed hard to move those thoughts out of her mind and turn to the million other demands the day thrust into her arms.

Making her way to the student dorms, Ororo was greeted with a snarl of contempt from the outcast mutant who stood in the shadows with a plague of bones protruding throughout her face and up the sides of her body. A brief spout of emotion ushered from the girl before giving into a neutral mood that held long enough for some information on her origins to be passed. And it was met with more understanding on Ororo's part upon finding Marrow was an orphaned morlock seeking to reconnect to surface living.  
Curious as to why Callisto recommended one of their own to leave the sewers, she agreed to help only under the terms no more random fights would be started with the other students.

Marrow spat out another contempt for Storm's disinterest in a people she was suppose to be leading before ultimately blaming her for the murder of fellow morlocks that brought her to the surface. Appalled at the news, she couldn't help the surge of pain that welt up inside her.

"What do you mean, murders?"

" There's been threats carried out to kill us. We brushed it off, but couldn't any longer when we found the bodies of Caliban and Leech.... "

Storm felt the air in her lungs tighten and arm extending over her mouth horrified shock . She didn't know many morlocks by name, but those were two she did. She couldn't find words to express her feelings but Marrow didn't care as she spoke cold and heartless towards her as if she didn't own a soul.

" If you were there to help us like a LEADER should be, they might still be alive. I feel sick to stand next to the likes of you. I wish Callisto hadn't sent me here. I'd rather be down there fightin with her."

Storm felt the sting, but ignored it. She had a right to be frustrated.

"How long has it been since.... this happened?"

"Weeks, before all the worldwide nonsense. You weren't even here when I was summoned to come look you up, out of town was it?" Her voice was snide.

"Hell, You wernt even around here to help when this place was invaded where you?" she let off a disgusted glare.

"What kind of leader are you anyway?"

Storm said nothing, but rose to her full height. The comments stung more then she cared to admit, but didn't bother letting the girl see it.

"I will look past that, as I probably understand more you care to know. And you have my protection, but I will not stand by and let you wreak havoc at every ones expense. So with those conditions, we will agree to a truce."

Marrow rolled her eyes, looking through her.

"There's no truce between us, but I will do my best to stay out of your hair, if that's what your asking. It seems this private audience with the goddess went overtime anyway on an outcast like me."

Patience was a virtue Ororo had, and it was coming much into play as she headed towards the door before turning around to make her exit.

"My name is Ororo," she paused before continuing, "and regardless of what you believe now, I will do all in power to help the Morlocks and you, Sarah."

The mutant turned around full in surprise at the knowledge somehow Storm knew her name but Ororo left before she could marvel at it.

Now free of her presence, Ororo felt another sense of failure flooding over her. What kind of chaos was deciding to ensue in the tunnels of New York City? She reasoned it had something to do with the nationwide mutant riots that had taken place while she was gone, but wasn't entirely convinced anti-mutant haters would take to the underground to lay their assault. She felt a few tears streaming down her cheek at the thought of Caliban and Leech and tried to fight them off. After today, she would try and get a lock on Callisto for more details, praying she was wasn't too late to help her.

Descending into the hallway,she forced that to the back of her mind.

Her next stop was a meeting with Hank on the subject of updating the mansions security systems. As Beast discussed the ins and outs of new features he planned to introduce, Ororo sidestepped the heated coals being ignorantly tossed with each mention of Forge's awaited return. It was not a secret he was looking forward to working his technological genius alongside the Makers but he remained ignorant to the fact of early morning happenings. If anything, Beast's enthusiasm on the new X-Men remained so strong that she barely made it through their meeting with a smirk and hasty dismissal.

Retreating down the hallway, she hated that her mind was now entrenched in so many things.

_Forge. Unreasoning_.  
_Remy. Secretive.  
__Marrow. Angry.  
__Logan_---

"I'm gonna jack him up..."

Logan grumbled in annoyance as he caught sight of Ororo in the hallway. She turned around taking in his unpleasant body language while wondering what else could fall into her lap this morning.

"What now?"

"Your boy went free-riding. Were down one mini-jet."

Ororo felt a sense of creeping worry at that revelation and hoped Remy wasn't in the danger she thought he was.  
As it stood, she really didn't know where he went. She sighed, trying to reinforce some type of positive thought into the already depressing events of the day .

"Well I'm sure there's a good reason for not telling us, " she defended.

"Yeah, and it's called theivin'. Webster's dictionary describes it as the impulse to do stupid shit at the worst possible times. I swear Ima knock him three weeks from Sunday if he is dumb enough to come back."

Ororo lowered an eyebrow.

" Oh how the mighty can pass a judging! You stand here and act as if you never done anything remotely as impulsive say- like borrowing someones motorcycle and not return for months on end..."

Logan responded quickly.

"_That_ was different."

"Yes, of course it was Logan. Besides we have three air carriers on-top of the Blackbird. Were supplied for the missions."

His eyes met hers as he took her gently by the arm and whispered into her ear. She was a little more then testy this morning.

"I don't know why you defend him - that boy is into something dangerous. I don't know what, but in any event, I don't trust him as far as I can spit."

"Maybe it is because people thought the same thing of you when you first arrived. I didn't believe them about you, and now I'm not believing you about him."

Catching the daggers she shot with his hand resting on her, he took the initiative to remove it. It didn't take a genius to see the day had barely started and she was already calling down sarcasm and irritation to her repertoire of emotions. Somehow he wondered if Forge had something to do with that, as he had been long gone when he awoke.  
Either way, he resigned from bringing up the subject in her current mood.

" Look - I've talked to him. And I will again, but you have got to try and stop this sense of.." she struggled to find the right word,  
"Hatred you have. He will never come around if he feels threatened."

Logan could feel of sense of petition in her voice.

" Oh He'll come around,"Logan pressed, furrowing a brow and crossing his arms.

"The kid likes being the pain in my ass. And you 'Ro -" he stopped eyeing the strange look in her eye,  
"Look sick."

As if on cue, Logan caught her before nearly stumbling onto a table that rested in the hallway. Holding her secure with one arm around her back and another supporting the arch of her neck, he looked upon her with much worry.

"You okay, darlin?"

Ororo took a few minutes to respond, trying to regain her strength to stand upright but found none as Logan continued to support her.

"Uh, yeah, fine. Just a little dizzy. Didn't much sleep."

It was forced lie he wasn't buying for a second and without a thought pulled Ororo into his arms, much to her dismay.

"What are you doing? I can walk."

He ignored her, heading to one of the nearby chairs that rested in the hallway.

"Really? You seemed barely able to stand a few minutes ago."

"But I'm okay now. Someone might see us..."

At that, he quickly put her to her feet, where she barely had to time to adjust to the firm ground below her. Logan had turned a cold glare before removing his support all together.

"Sorry if that thought bothers you so deeply. If your suddenly cured of your womanly problems then I will be in the hangar if needed."

At that, he stormed off in a succession of irritation without noticing the mad dash Ororo made for the restroom.  
After her stomach turned up a duet of fluids that screamed to be emptied several times over, a sense of relief finally came before she pulled her head up and swished water to dismember the taste. What in the Goddess name was going on? She leaned over the sink feeling like her insides were just sucker punched.  
She could never remember a time of feeling so sick in her life and particularly attributed it to the news of Caliban and Leech's death.  
But thinking back on the tragic loss of Jean, who had been her best friend, even that never got her this physically sick.  
She wanted nothing more then to climb back to her attic, tattered as it was, and fall fast asleep putting all the tragedies of the morning to rest.

Could she really function flying hours to Florida on the mission soon approaching?  
It seemed she barely could walk from point A to point B before blacking out or throwing up.  
And there the stiff reality hit her.  
Although she detested pills, she would have no choice but to search out Hank for some remedy that included a large milligram dosage and pray it worked.  
Staring in the mirror for a minutes, she sighed anew.

On top of tossing her cookies, now she would have to deal with an angry animal the entire way down.  
This day was moving from bad to worse and with a angry jerk, she removed her crown that ceased to bring any stability of control.  
Trying to rearrange herself, she accomplished it to the best of her ability before exiting the restroom solitude and hunting down Beast once again.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Logan was angry with himself.

How in hell had he allowed his actions to grow so careless?  
He replayed the scenario in his mind from moments ago with Storm and felt a new sense of rejection fill his gut.  
He grumbled with disdain in the way she rendered his touch like the plague and disregarded any of his instinctive warnings regarding shady characters.  
On top of that, she became cold, distant and had felt it a mortal sin that he tried helped her in public scope.  
Without warning his feral nature rose to the surface and he had ran out on her when he should have stayed.  
And that is what angered him the most.  
Something was terribly off about her and all his senses were confirming it, yet he let his selfish nature of being denied override being there as her as a friend.

He fought the urge to return, but couldn't bring himself to do it.  
So much was making him angered, he decided it would be best to keep space and prepare for the mission they would share.  
Besides, he needed time to gather himself, and and sort his feelings.

Logan had entered the hangar a bit frazzled kicking around the empty boxes that once housed scrap metals. Upon his arrival he caught sight of Betsy, better known as Psylocke, who had been in the midst of inspecting one of the mini-jets. As the day would have it, she and Kurt were scheduled to head into Houston to help in rescue efforts for the disaster ridden area. She spared him a few glances of amusement.

" Well. Well. To what do we owe this incredible show of maturity?"

Her voice was dripping with sarcasm as she curved a smile and narrowed her slanted eyes..

"Can it, Bets."

Instead of looking defensive, she just put her hands on her hips.

" Bloody Kristicks, I wonder if there is some type of planetary alignment I am not aware of.."

Logan who had drowned his mood into checking the air pressure on the tires of the blackbird halted giving her a look of confusion.

"What in blazzes are you talking about woman?"

"I'm talking about all the foul moods being projected this morning! It's enough to make a telepath go mad."

Without a second thought, he returned to the gauge, not sparing her a second look.

"Yeah, well, today just sucks I guess."

"So what happened?"

Logan stopped, looking up at her. Was she really expecting an answer or had she been prying wanting to confirm something she felt?

"The Gulf Coast is in shambles. Global warming is killing off polar bears. Random mutant establishments are being bombed. I'm outta cigars. What'cha looking for? General or Detailed?

"Fusteration over someone." She pegged.

Logan eyed her skeptically and hated the fact she didn't respect privacy of thought the way Jean or the Professor stressed. Instead, she had a horrible habit of scanning and peering whenever she felt like it, and was getting so skilled in her telepathy, that people rarely ever detected she was doing it.  
Logan was told his mind, as concrete, dark and shredded as it was, went usually undetectable from even the most powerful telepaths. So he concluded his anger about the situation with 'Ro had been projecting like a movie screen. He wanted to deny it.

"I guess you could say that."

Betsy nodded slowly and in a reassuring way. Trying to press the issue, he spoke.

"She's not well, be gentle with her."

"So I've concluded."

"And don't worry. She's not really that mad at you."

Logan stopped, wondering if she was reading lines from an impromptu soap opera script.

"Is anything sacred with you?"

Psylocke paused, taking in the suggestion.

"Poker on Saturday night maybe. Other then that, its kind of a toss up. But don't worry, I'm not really trying to read her mind, all of the above was just an analysis from the freak thunderstorm that woke me up this morning. Its been raining off and on since and something tells me it wasn't in the forecast."

He paused. He must have been sleeping like a stone because he caught none of it. She looked at him, a grin crossing her features.

"If you didn't catch it, do not worry. That storm only lasted a matter of three minutes. Such a marvelous sense of control she has... Bad nightmare maybe?"

He went to throw a nearby towel at her.

"Keep that up an' you wont want ta see the next thought I make."

"Oh daggers to my heart Wolverine!"

She laughed turning her attention back to her much neglected inspection before gaining a serious tone.

"Seriously, I am not sure what it is, but Ororo is projecting some strong emotions. Namely worry, and fear. For her to be broadcasting that strongly is something else as her thoughts do not easily penetrate to the surface. Whatever the reason, it worries me. Otherwise I wouldn't have told you." she paused before continuing,

"Some things are sacred you know, and if I respect anyone more, it would be Ororo."

With that heartfelt notion, Logan smiled at the devious woman before him.

"I know it's not my place to ask, but.. Is she thinkin' bout someone?"

She looked away, her glances catching the corner of the floor. She finally met his eager looks with much sadness in her eyes.

" Yes."

Casting is eyes downward, he looked away not wanting to know anymore as her look said it all.  
Turning his attention back to the blackbird, and finishing his inspection, he caught the sight of the rest of the X-Men filtering in into the hangar, Storm coming in last.  
After going through a debriefed report, Storm made the official assignments. Besty and Kurt headed off to Houston while Peter and Rogue were en route to New Orleans.

After both mini jets had descended to the sky, Storm carefully brought up all power revving the Blackbird to life as it before they were soon clear into the air.  
Logan sat in the co-pilot seat looking at her with much precision, not wanting Betsy's words to get to him.  
She seemed focused on the task, mapping out the coordinates before ever noticing the way he stared at her.  
And when she finally did say something, they were well into air, even above several cloud masses.

"We got about two hours before we touch down in Tampa," she offered.

"Right."

Ororo detected Logan's mood had shifted for the better and was eternally grateful for it. It also seemed the medicine Hank had given her took affect for her nausea had cleared up and she was able to fly better then expected. Maybe were was something to that pill bit after-all. She managed a smile before looking at Logan briefly then turning her attention to the skies.

"I wanted to apologize to you back there. I know you were just trying to help me, and I seemed less then thankful for it. So, I am sorry."

Logan was readily compliant. It seemed Ororo had returned to herself. It was more then welcomed.

"It's nothing 'Ro. Are you feeling any better?"

"Yes. But I have been needing to speak with you on something that was brought to my attention this morning."

Bracing for news he rather not hear, he gulped a few times swallowing the lumps in the back of his throat. He did his best to sound casual.

"Sure, whats up?"

"Kitty and Jubilee informed me of a morlock named Marrow that came to the school in my absence."

"Yeah, kids got some behaviour issues. I let her stay, but she refused to talk much. You get anything out of her?"

He could see the visible shift in her mood.

"Yeah, I did..... Logan, someone is trying to kill the Morlocks. Callisto ordered her to come to me for safe haven. Caliban and Leech..... have been causalities."

Logan was almost taken aback by the news.

"Leech? The little green guy?

He paused, somehow really saddened at that revelation.

" But, why waste time taking out sewer dwelling mutants? It doesn't make sense."

"I know. I've thought over all the angles myself, but when we return, I will have to make it top priority to try and locate Callisto and offer my services where I can. As much as I feel unfit and ashamed, I am their leader, and all this is my fault. I must help where I can."

There was silence between them for a few moments.

"Your not expected to save the world, 'Ro. Things will happen that sometimes you do not have full control over, even if you like to. And dont think your going alone, the X-Men will be there."

He looked at her.

"I'll be there."

She comforted him with a reassured smile. It was more then she could have asked.  
Logan took that for what it was worth, realizing when all the elements boiled down, it was her friendship that mattered most.  
And if it came down to it, he would be there regardless of what bad mood decided to visit him.  
'Ro was family first and foremost. And it felt good to belong somewhere after so many years of wandering without a clue to his soul.  
He threw all his angering thoughts to the waste side enjoying the flight and the presence of her company before the Floridian landscape came into view.

Upon landing on a personal airstrip, both Ororo and Logan had set the blackbird in stealth mode and soon met up with with commanding officials in army fatigues.

"Welcome to Macdill Air force Base, X-Men."


	4. Questions

**_____________The Arrival and the Reunion_____________**

**A/N **

Everyone, thanks for the reviews and giving me a second chance to redeem myself in the proofreading department. I can certainly understand where that's obnoxious and self-suicide to continuing any story.  
Due to the fact some Marvel Universe elements are presented in this chapter with acronyms that could possibly be alien to strict X-Men fans, I've whipped up a quick glossary.  
They are not planned to be a main objective for long, but it's good to know whats going on in meantime right?  
So again, enjoy this installment, feel free to comment, and all that jazz.

There is also a little language in this chapter, so a heads up.

_________

**SAFE** - Explained in story, but the function is not so .... it's an intelligence and anti-terrorist group similar to the FBI strictly run by the US Government that deals with superhuman threats. (Got all that?)  
**SHEILD**- Everyone should know this one, but in-case you've been living under a rock, here ya go. Strategic Hazard Intervention, Espionage and Logistics Directorate. Same thing as SAFE, but UN run.  
**HYDRA** - Terrorist Organization bent on world domination, arch enemy of SHIELD. Their agents often get missions to detonate, destroy, beat up, or burn things for the most part.  
**FOH**- Another obvious one. Friends of Humanity - Mutant hating group that goes around rallying, attacking and terrorizing anything possibly mutant related. If any X-Fan didn't know that one.. no soup for you.

__________________________________

_**Macdill Airforce Base - Tampa, Florida**_

Logan sat impatiently taking in unpleasant whiffs of the air. A mingle of ammonia and bleach clung to the walls trying to compensate for the left-over smell of cheap cigarettes.  
The guard that laid sentinel at the door felt it necessary to show his prowess by staring accusingly in Logan's direction. Cocking his gun slightly every time he settled his eyes on him, Logan finally scowled, extended his claws, and flashed a mouthful of fangs in response. Immediately he turned facing the whitewashed hallway, much in the same manner a defeated dog would stalk away with it's tale between the legs.  
Humans were stupid, Logan thought. Little did this pee-brain know the makeup of feral mutations let alone that in one clean swipe, he could dismember him. Yet there he stood, arrogant and proud letting the cold metal of his AK-47 boost his ego. Maybe Magneto was onto something with his whole wiping out the homo-sapian race thing but thought nothing more on it.  
Ad least the chump took a hint.

Logan let out a throaty growl in irritation and shrinking patience before tapping his claws impatiently on the tabletop.  
Something didn't smell right, didn't settle well with him.  
First it came with Ororo asked into a private audience upon arrival and then Logan being chauffeured to wait in what was pretty much an interrogation room. It didn't help to alleviate speculation when they put sparky on guard with a machine gun; Macdill wasn't exactly in need for the same caliber of security as that of Abu Grave.  
Especially not when their help was requested on behalf of the US Government herself.

Ororo had been gracious, Logan recalled, holding him back from blowing off the entire mission on a vague hunch and reasoned it was nothing out of the ordinary for a city to be on red-alert when it was in the midst of a State of Emergency. Even though it prolonged his advances, it was decided that if she wasn't back in five minutes he would take more extreme methods to deal with their lack of hospitality.  
Nearly four minutes and forty-two seconds had gone by when Logan's ears heard the sifting of footsteps in the hallway and Ororo entered, accompanied by three others.  
Someone had an acute sense of timing.

The ringleader that approached was a middle aged man, nearly bald and greying around the sides dressed in black with piercing blue eyes. The other two were dressed in fatigues, obviously more watchdogs. The man in black took brisk strides even though having a slight limp and slapped down a file on the solitary desk.  
Logan glanced offensive at him then the file before settling his eyes on 'Ro. She stood near him, but closer to the wall with a look that was hard to gauge. Maybe anticipation? Before Logan could ponder deeper on it, the man started to speak.

"Dont look so offended at not being able ta watch TV and sample finger foods durrin' yu' wait. Were only dealin' with a state of Emergency here."  
The man spoke flatly in a northern accent, possibly from the Boston area, responding to the look of inconvenience that Logan expressed.

He came across commanding and cynical on top of his blatant sarcasm. Logan settled on the neatly lined wrinkles below his eyes hiding shadows that gathered exhaustion or maybe just a show of age. And with the sudden realization he probably was an ex-sergeant, most likely a Vietnam vet with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder straddling a fine line from insanity, he responded more mild concerning his present temperament.

"Well sorry if a man takes offense to being shoved into a dark cell with no one for company but Rambo over there. But since you went through all this trouble to get our help fixin up your busted town, then hows about some introductions?"

With that understanding, the man smirked in approval.

"Base was compromised during the perpetual chaos and it seems the invaders didn't see any need to ransack the interrogation cells. It's probably the most secure sector in this entire place right now. Name's Jackson Billiard, I'm with Strategic Actions For Emergencies..."

"S.A.F.E. The US answer to SHIELD. Yeah, I know bout you guys. So whats the deal? Need our help infiltratin' Latveria? Or are the Fantastic Four not available? " Logan finished for him passing a keen eye over that revelation while not being surprised at that same time.

"Well that saves some time, dont it? I can appreciate a man that gets to tha point. "

Logan smirked.

"And so can I, but it seem you went through some hoops to get us down here, Old man. Six hundred thousand condemned homes, flooded streets and a contaminated water source to get our attention? You should have just asked nicely."

"What can we say? We like'a little bit'a rusing. Besides, that's what FEMA and otha organizations are for," Jackson said off handed while Logan's smirk broadened at his remarks, "Although, that don't stand for much nowa days. Direct ya attention to the fotag."

Logan opened the file that had been placed in front of him. A flood of pictures came. Some of schools, others of religious establishments, and still others barely unrecognizable under charred rubble.

"Someone has a liken' for blowing shit up. HYDRA?"

" HYDRA sure likes their pyrotechnics, but no. This is more internal. SAFE headquarters were attacked last week with one of our leading nuclear scientists being kidnapped. While we've traced involvement to FOH we cant quite place why they would strike at a human-government installation."

"It's because their bloomin' idiots. But aint it even more embarrasin' is they managed to compromise yer state of the art headquarters? What's it made outta? Legos?"

"Humorous Wolverine and I'm glad your following so far," Jackson offered. "But, were not convinced it's that cut and dry. Security camera's were busted during tha blast but managed to capture this shot."

He sifted through the documents until coming up on a very murky dark shot. Logan remained silent taking in the shredded details but making out in overall shape.

"So you got a backside of someone. That don't help much."

Jackson studied Logan, and then rested his eyes finally on Ororo, who had remained silent the whole time. Somehow, Logan now fully understood just why he couldn't read her before.

"Maybe not, but we've determined the detonation of the blast to be of kinetic origin. Same with all these other bombings."

"Kinetic energy? Well that gets you nowhere. When shit blows up its bound to charge. It's a simple matter of nature."

"We've got witnesses, better yet mutants who survived these otha' attacks. They have all given strikingly similar descriptions although the bombings happened in different places. It matches our security camera image. And we have reason to believe you both know him. Or Ad-least, Storm does, maybe I should say Ms. Munroe? I must say she's got quite a record undah' her belt."

It was only then Ororo spoke her voice firm, and eyes glistening a shade of dramatic cobalt.

" I don't take kindly to blackmail, Billiard, as I have told you already. It was years ago. I've served my time. Last I checked double jeopardy is illegal in this country."

"Who said anything about blackmail? We have substantial proof putting your longtime thieving-partner at nearly every attacked location. If you know his wear abouts, then I don't think being an accomplice to terrorist activity would be double jeopardy. Tha' matter is simple. We want Remy Leabeau now and know your still in contact with him. Otherwise we have no choice but to detain you."

Logan rose from his seat, protectively shielding Ororo from his grasp.

"Woah, pal, step it down. You've got a backside of someone with brown hair. You got people tellin vague details. Last I checked substantial proof is DNA- a fingerprint, a hair sample, a mouth swab, hell a blood sample- and you got nothin'. Just some stories not to mention yer reasons don't add up - first FOH is behind it, but a mutant is helpin'em. If this clown is a mutant, then why hasn't FOH just offed him? It aint exactly like they have tea time socials with people like us. And What 'bout yer missin' scientist? He's into nuclear shit. Who's to say this isn't some elaborate setup by that chump? Or has it crossed your mind it could be a shape-shifter? There's plenty of them round these parts. One things for sure, all you got is speculation and that's neither grounds nor proof to hold no one. So until you bring up a better case-in-point scenario for the big and bad secret intelligence organization yer suppose to be, then me in' Storm got better things to do then listen to this bullshit."

With that Logan started to move disregarding the fact the men in fatigues were pulling at their guns and the one in the far corner had shut the door. There was a click signaling it had been locked. Heh, that was amusing. That would prevent someone who's bones were laced with the strongest metal known to man from escaping! Logan ignored the gesture wanting to laugh but stopped when Billiard raised a hand to restrain him. Is the man serious? Contact? Even more amused then before, he felt a sudden growl bellow deep in the back of his throat. It has been a while since he cut loose and man would he enjoy this.

"Care to get your hand outta my face before it's detached from your body?"

Logan extended his claws, reinforcing his buffer between the guards who pulled out their pistols and Ororo, ready to attack if necessary.  
Billiard seemed unfazed by this threats and retreated neither in moving his hand.

"Might I remind you that if you dare touch me or any of these men, that is incarceration for life."

Logan sneered, his claws now up, ready to slice, something, anything, from Billiard.

"They've yet to build anything that can hold me, pal. I'd like to see your government or any other two timing gutter trash try an' accomplish it."

Jackson sighed as if disappointed.

'Very well then."

Logan furrowed a brow. Definite analysis: Billiard equals certifiable. Pacing himself, he lunged. Let the fireworks begin. But before their machine guns opened fire at point blank range, Ororo thrust herself in front of him.

"What are you all insane? Those bullets would ricoche and maim us all before anyone got what they wanted. Stand down all of you. For Goddess sake...."

Ororo reprimanded both parties like they had been nothing more then mere children squabbling on the school-yard. Before either of them had a chance to protest, she continued.

"I've got nothing to hide. While your terms of suggestion are more then questionable, I agree to them. But mind you, things will come full circle."

Logan stood in disbelief.

"What? You cant be serious 'Ro. Takin' the fall for somethin' you have nothing to do with. Who's to say these dirtbags arnt settin' us up?"

Ororo held such a stern and determined look. A commander, a warrior going bravely to her death. An Goddess dancing in the realm of the mortals. This was all above her, yet she contended with its eventualities anyway.

"I am prepared to go with you, only under the stipulation you let Logan go and leave my team out of this. No, trackers, no spying. If Remy does indeed try to look for me, then he will come to me not them."

Billiard eyed the beautiful white haired woman before him, taken with her stance and character. She was every bit the leader a team as legendary as the X-Men should have. He had known Xavier years ago and realized why he now chose this woman to represent his dream. Human Mutant relations. Sensibility. All of it became her essence regardless of what criminal background she came from. Storm was something to be admired and in the same line of thought, also a bit of an enigma. But the short sneering hairy mutant with claws was an entire other matter.

"Like Fuckin hell, Ro. I'm not leaving you here to these wolves. You've got nothin' to do with this."

Ororo ignored him, looking straight on at Billiard, waiting for his response.  
Her resolve was like ice. Unbending. He admired that.  
After a time it came.

"Agreed. Davedson, Escort Wolverine out of here."

As the one guard approached, Logan was ready to lunge when Ororo put a hand on his shoulder.

"Logan, please."

He struggled whipping against her, rage building to the surface. What was her problem?

"Like HELL. I'm not leavin'."

Trying her to up most to calm him, and realizing the abrasive men with machine guns was only drawing him more to his feral nature, she addressed Billiard.

"Can we have a moment? Without them?"

Almost wishing he could just drop this entire affair on her behalf, he complied, pushing the other men outside, and walking a bit down the hall to ensure her privacy.  
Turning to face Logan who was breathing ragged, she put her hand on his shoulder taking in his desperate blue eyes.

" Look. I need you to take care of them for me."

What nonsense was this woman spouting? He shook her, hoping it would knock some sense into her.

"Ro what are you talkin' 'bout? You've gone mad? Yer not stayin' here. I'm gettin' you outta this. Yer not takin' the fall for that theiven' bastard."

She passed a subtle look at him. It was enough for him to gauge what she wasn't able to say. She would deal with this, take the fall for him, professing nothing, saying nothing, all for the loyalty she had to him. Logan didn't understand it and never thought much beyond it until now but something about it angered him. How had someone as secretive and all-round questionable like Gambit come to gain the unconditional trust of someone as pure as 'Ro? They probably could have matched his blood sample saying he murdered the president and still she wouldn't abandon him. It was almost too sick a thought. Was she that twisted?  
No. She wasn't. She knew deep in her gut that he had nothing to do with it.  
And even though he had his own doubts, he believed all of this to be beyond Gambit too. Still, it didn't mean that 'Ro should be here paying for his mistakes.

"Don't Ro. If you take the fall, then nothing will get solved."

" It will create some type of peace for us right now. Don't forget, Logan, I'm not a fan of small enclosed spaces myself. This will get solved. Contact the professor. Tell him what's going on. And please do not worry so much. I need someone to keep everything intact for the time being."

Reluctantly, he saw her reasoning more then plainly. It made sense. She was thinking ahead, planning her strategy. Something he did little of. Finally bending, he took her hand and squeezed it. She returned the gesture in full. What was it about 'Ro that could calm the most horrific monster in him? It was her calming effect, he slowly concluded.

"Dont bring the house down. I'll be back."

" Will do. Now go."

He looked at her one more time before heading towards the door and letting out a sneer passing Billiard. It was ignored.  
Being escorted by two of the watchdogs who were smart enough to keep their distance, they finally turned him loose.  
Approaching the Blackbird, he un-stealth-ed it and up the engines. Using one of the devices that detected radio and tracker signals Beast had invented, he scanned the jet and found none. After a nudging second reassurance from his keen senses, he focused enough to take off an start arranging his own battle plan. Managing to connect to an active com device which signaled Besty's proper British flair on the other end, he spoke.

"Psylocke 'Crawler - abort mission. Rendezvous in downtown Dallas in one hour. Will give exact coordinates soon."

"Copied, although I regret to inform you most of downtown is being blocked off by the National Guard. They are only letting in FEMA, rescue workers and pumps. What's the problem?"

" Fill you on details later. Keep this line open."

"Understood. Wolverine, is Storm with you?"

"Not presently. Will explain later. Logan out."

The line went dead. Betsy was too intuitive for her own good and that would prove useful soon.  
He thought about getting in contact with the professor, but that was becoming less and less an option considering how he hadn't been around or even interested in them as of late.  
A more immediate plan of action was needed.  
Growling with protest at the next move his mind initiated, he could think of only one person that pulled enough strings to help where government sectors were concerned.  
Although he didn't look forward to dealing with Forge after the last exchange they shared, much of the outcome all his doing, he swallowed his pride, his emotions and his bitter doubts.  
The fact of the matter was simple: he didn't trust him. But that was neither here nor there.  
'Ro needed his help right now and that would require working to keep a level head and not turn into some overly- jealous feral animal. He snarled, questioning himself.  
He wasn't jealous, just extremely protective of the only few friends he came to have.

Maneuvering through a patch of rain, he punched up the Doppler. The mass over him was converging with other squalls gaining momentum over the warm waters and heading east towards landfall in the Tampa Bay Area. It was accompanied with dots of red and yellow between the green. Green was rain, red was severe weather and yellow was lightning, if he remembered correctly. And as the red and yellow started to settle, concentrated in one spot, he smirked. So much for not bringing the house down, he thought. Maybe she had re-thought her current decision? Somehow he knew that wasn't the case, although he wished it was. Instead he become annoyed with the thoughts of what she was enduring, and faught the urge to turn round, kill every mother fucker in that military base and burn the place down for the mere pleasure of it. In the old days, he would have.  
He'd been tamed, big time.  
He spun the controls on the blackbird dangerously even higher and faster, determined to reach Dallas in record time.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Forge had seen better times.

The more significant part of the day followed much of it's beginning; an advance from bad to worse. The sum of it was spent getting clearance into Downtown and the other to reaching his compound. There were an intermingling of the National Guard and Navy Seals stationed around the perimeter of the city blocking off the business district as far as the eye could see. Being escorted by a few men on motorboats through the flooded streets, the sights were hard to take in. Pumps were strategically placed trying to recede the waters, with men working in earnest. Shops and buildings were ruined by the murky waters. Chairs and tables from a nearby bistro went floating by, alongside clothes, shoes, and accessories, once merchandise goods. Pieces of metal most likely paneling from the buildings drifted by. Very few windows remained intact leading Forge to believe most of the glass was lurking beyond the dark waters. The skyscrapers were black, charred and stripped of any closure resembling a scene straight from Doomsday. The smell of lingering filth and stagnant water filled the air. A putrid scent, in light. The air had been calm, stuffy and humid lingering it for miles.  
The entire area had been condemned. Nothing living would be allowed to reside here long and keep their health.

He began to feel an inward pummeling of guilt as he caught sight of a drenched teddy bear that barely remained afloat over the diseased waters. How many people had lost their livelihoods? It was a heavy load to carry. He didn't want to think about the many who suffered, or even worse- paid with their lives - over the the primal force of the Adversary. Something he should have done better to prevent.

As he finally came up on Eagle Plaza, he made a mental assessment of the damage. The outside remained battered, and charred, but aside from that intact. Aside from a few windows on the first level that had shattered, most remained unscathed. He glanced briefly into the sky, seeing no other windows affected. He breathed a sigh of relief. It appeared his reinforced design had held up to tests. It was then he directed his escort on their way.  
They left without much word, under strict orders not to hassle him.  
Sometimes having friends in high places paid off.  
Upon entering, he braced for what he would find next.

Not surprisingly the first two levels had been flooded, with water damage resonating on the third. All power had been knocked out. That meant most of his secular and personal items were ruined, and the other half most likely ripped off. Plasma Televisions, computers, clothes, electronic equipment - that sort of thing. There had been a slew of looting. For where was primal chaos if not accompanied by looting? Unsurprised, he brushed past those levels, as they were filled with menial things that could be replaced and moved onto the security code that gained entry into the upper floors.

Upon designing Eagle Plaza, he implemented something termed the "Trinitarion" Method. Three levels were supplanted together, with a common foundation. From the fourth to the sixth floor, it was created from a complete separate foundation, that ran off a different power source, and finding it to still be working, he breathed a little easier. He gathered it had been short-circuited but operational due to the mandatory reload function. With that revelation, he diverted some of the power to regenerate the lower levels reestablishing the security cameras before moving on.

While the fourth and fifth level seemed to be fine, it wasn't until he reached the sixth, his working lab, that thoughts severely turned. The mess that greeted him inside was extensive and chaotic. Papers were trashed from the secured file cabinets. His desk was overturned and drawers along with his computer, CD Roms and mini-discs. It seemed there was not a piece of floor that remained visible. Fear creeping thoroughly, he went to the far end of the room, pressing in a key-code.  
Instantly, a door materialized.  
It had remained untouched, unseen. Breathing a sigh of relief after disarming the cloaking device, he went to the door and put in another code which required a retinal and fingerprint scan. After being approved, he stepped into a black vacuum from which bright green lights came alive one by one as he maneuvered through the hallway leading to yet another door. After going through the same process for this door, he finally entered a massive room that covered an entire floor on its own. It seemed to stretch so far the other side remained unseen. Many computer screens on-top of more computer screens entertained one side along with a show of different machinery, gadgets, wires, and other elements remaining strange and alien. Forge maneuvered through the area with ease and booted up the mainframe computer that had welcomed him by name.  
All had been untouched, save the dust that collected between the shadows.

While It seemed there were six levels to the visible eye, this was the seventh that remained perpetually cloaked to secure his most important projects. After the neutralizer incident, he felt it necessary. If anyone had just an inkling of the things he was working on, it could mean disaster and certain chaos where the world was concerned. Of course that sounds a bit mellow-dramatic and anti-climatic, but that's about what it amounted to.  
It was an unerving thought in its own merits.  
Too dangerous, too much.  
Sometimes he even wondered where his mind ran to think and create such vile and masochistic inventions.  
The great spirits knew the government had requested some monsters in their time.  
Maybe it was a weakness.  
For someone that could make anything, why not?  
His abilities became a modern-day Pandora's box; filled with wonders and consequence all in one.  
But it didn't change the fact he still had a sense of morals.

Forge designed this level with so much precision that even the energy outtake couldn't be discovered. It ran off solar powered generators and an indictable force field able to withstand a B-52 bombing, 185 MPH hurricane winds, or practically anything with an assault mechanism. Then there was the fingerprint keyboard sensors that shut down access to the mainframe and motion detectors that picked up foreign body patterns triggering high sensory lasers. Yes, he thought long and hard to secure this place. And at the thought, someone getting as far as his lab worried him.  
Who would trash it?  
What were they looking for?  
It would take some time to go through everything and pinpoint exactly what.  
It would also take even more time to clear his first two floors of flood damage.  
Pulling up old archives of his security camera footage that only covered the last four days, he found nothing. It meant the invasion happened sometime before he even came back from Adversary's world.  
Either way, they failed in compromising his most important assets.

He breathed in another heavy sigh as his thoughts turned from his wretched work space to Ororo. Buildings could be mended, carpets and floors could be changed, files could be replaced, but his relationship, he wasn't so sure about.  
He kept playing the scene in his head all morning.  
The way she looked commanding him to leave etched in his mind. So final, so decisive.  
It was frustrating.  
How could things change so suddenly?  
Just days ago, they were intimate on more levels then one, close. Seemingly soul mates reunited after such a long space of time.  
He had retreated to Salem to see her, to hold her. But all that came crashing down after seeing her with that theiven criminal, dressed to such gorgeous detail. Where had she gone with him? What were they doing? And better yet, was she planning on leaving him now that she was home?  
It all hit him like a ton of bricks.

Ororo mentioned Remy a few times while they were in Adversary's world and he thought nothing of it. But after seeing him, features and all, things start to connect in his head.  
Had Ororo known about her company?  
He remembered accessing private files on a Remy Leabeau with a record in two states from bank robbery and carjacking to misdemeanor felonies. In Louisiana, he was pegged as belonging to a dangerous guild of thieves headed by someone named Jean-Luc. And if he recalled, Jean-Luc was being monitored by the FBI and SAFE for involvement in an embezzlement ring. Had she known how dangerous he truly was?

But when he witnessed the way her arms flung around him in a big show of affection, proclaiming her longing of how she missed him, he was too angry to care on that end.  
The warmth she radiated sent an un- channeled anger throughout his body. Jealously had reared it's head in ways he never imagined existed.  
He tried to leave, to give it space, but she persisted to follow him, pushing his buttons, insisting nothing and everything and under the pressure, he snapped.  
He shouldn't have frightened her the way he did, shouldn't have kissed her so forcefully. But he was incensed and blinded by his rage.  
At that moment in time, he couldn't put himself to apologize, or pacify how she ignored his feelings and sided with that thieving criminal.  
Her disregard berated him.  
It irked him to no end.  
Had it really been over between them? That quickly, without much words or thoughts?  
He hoped not. He would eventually give the matter some time, and then approach it again.  
If anything he needed space, more then anyone could imagine.  
He fumbled in his pocket pulling out the velvet box he had concealed there. Opening it briefly, a glitter of gold hit the sunlight before he closed it.

Before he had anymore time to sulk in heartbreak, his security monitor flashed a warning of intruders on the second level. Quickly bringing up the security cameras, they zoomed in for better leverage. Recognizing it to be Logan, or as the X-Men dubbed him, Wolverine, Forge felt a growing feeling of irritation.  
Great Spirits, Not this guy.  
No, he didn't have the energy to deal with this anomaly right now.  
He watched him for a few more minutes as he sneaked around sniffing the air as he went.

Forge loosely fought the urge to fire lasers from the camera brandishing a solution to that hemorrhoid but refrained. If he ever wanted to make good with Ororo again, maiming her friends wasn't the way to do it. Besides, he always found himself to be more of diplomatic man.  
Unlocking one of his artillery shelves that housed some of his favourite weapons, he chose a stun gun tweaked to specialty and made his way to the lower level.

Minutes passed before Logan's nose picked up on a warm scent. He had just reached the third level when Forge peered over the corner, a massive gun in hand, staring him down.

"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't blast you to kingdom come."

Well this guy definitely got to the point, Wolverine thought vaguely impressed but held that information to himself.

"I'll give you two bub. One - You cant."

Forge raised a brow seemingly unimpressed.

"And the second?"

Wolverine raised his claws in a warning signal.

"You cant even if I let ya."

"You always this sure of yourself?"

Logan didn't need this now, inasmuch as he wanted to just slice the guys head off, he did know about a time and a place, and this was neither.

"Listen Chief Sittingcloud, I don't got time for this."

Chief Sittingcloud? Was that a racist slur? The nerve.

"And neither do I you diseased animal. Get to the point or get out. I got things to tend to."

The man had balls. Logan took a second to look around the the room they occupied.

"No shit. Literally. It's what this dump smells like. "

Growing impatient, Forge stepped closer to him.

"I don't think you came all this way to hang out in the condemned parts of the world just to berate me. What do you want?"

Agree to disagree.

" I need you for somethin'."

At that admittance, Forge's interest perked. It wasn't like they even had a mutual understanding let alone him coming to don a request.

"And that would be?"

"SAFE's got Storm down in Florida. I need you to bail her out. And don't tell me you cant cause I aint takin' no for an answer."

Logan took in the genuine look of worry that passed Forge's features.

"Why?"

Logan felt like smacking him. If Ro was his woman, he wouldn't be standing there asking stupid questions, only jumping to get it solved. Idiot.  
Again, he calmed himself.  
Agree to disagree.

" They're holdin' her for information she don't have. Just a bunch of suspicion. Look, you gonna help me or am I gonna have to do some coaxin'?"

With that Forge wanted to tell him to grow up as he flexed his claws and sneered. His song and dance was already growing old where he was concerned.

"I'm on it."

Well that was more like it.  
Immediately watching him go to his pockets, and maneuvering to pull out his phone, he caught sight of a strange bulk. Not quite rectangular, but more square with a little definition. What was it? Maybe a zippo lighter? He didn't take Forge for the smoking type but what did he know? Maybe it was for his tobacco, pipe, peyote or whatever. After all, he was Native American and even a Shaman. They did crazy shit. Dismissing the thought as his shirt fell to cover it, he wondered why he even cared to begin with.  
He could care less about this guy.  
He soon tuned to Forge who was flipping his small sleek phone, seemingly government issued, open and asking questions.

"Who did you talk to?"

"Some guy, Billiard."

Forge paused.

"Young or older?"

"There's more then one? Older, probably a Vietnam vet. From the north, crazy sonava' bitch."

Logan trailed recalling the old man trying to restrain him with a bare hand. Crazy indeed.  
Forge stopped momentarily, almost in thought at his words. Curious, he made a mental note of it. They had a history, apparently.  
Either way, Forge was back to normal, all traces of thought gone as he could hear the faint ringing on the other end of his phone. Eventually, someone answered to which Forge dismissed himself to continue the conversation to next room. It was without merit as Wolverine, due to his keen sense of hearing, heard every word uttered. After a time, Forge reemerged.

"Well?"

"They're negotiating."

"It better be good news, bub."

Forge ignored him.

"For once, and probably the only time, I agree with you. Where's the rest of the team?"

Logan wanted to correct him. He meant _his team _but suddenly the reality hit him. Technically (and there were plenty of technicalities as far as he was concerned) Forge _was _an X-Man. God, that realization was like being resigned to Chinese water torture. Wanting to rip that revelation wide apart, he refrained. As it stood, he was an asset. And you don't go ripping up the assets before they've been used. Reluctantly, he responded.

"Outside downtown waitin'. I got the blackbird. I lead, you follow."

"For now. When we get there, just leave the talking to me."

Logan grumbled, but said nothing. He had to admit, as much as he didn't like him, the man could stand his ground.

________________________

_**Tampa, Florida**_

Storm contended with the enclosed cell that held her. The vision of being the strong and proud leader coming to the defense of her team quickly diminished before it ever was born. It wasn't like she never experienced being locked up before, but that had been another time.  
She had been another person.  
Why had she felt so weak? So wrought with a roller coaster of emotions unrealizable?  
Was the fact that Remy was possibly into something over his head causing her to loose her grip on the little control she did have?  
It was a feeling so very out of herself, it harboured much alarm.  
Being forced to change into a set of orange-like scrubs with all her accessories stripped, she watched as they were bagged and taken down hallway.  
The door was locked and a guard was left standing on the outside. Probably the same one from earlier.

The cell was dark and tight, with only a dim light casting shadows on the concrete floor. The only thing that populated the room was a small table and chair. She refrained from them both and balled herself on the floor to the corner.  
Darkness. She felt it, like her nightmares.  
While she had tried to fight the tremors of fear that engulfed her, she failed miserably.  
The rains descended on the outside, the thunder rumbled like a repeat of the morning.  
She could feel the storm surging through her body, peaking and falling only for her.  
Pushing her head further into her knees, she tried to block out the voices on the outside.  
There had been a few curses announcing the downpour as a pestilence in rising the already present flood-waters.  
She knew she should stop it, but couldn't focus.  
She managed little redeeming of herself when booted footsteps had dragged down the hallway and stopped in front of her door.  
The key quickly popped, and inside, Jackson Billiard entered.

He took in the formidable leader, in a ball on the floor with more then heartache set in her cerulean eyes.  
He was alarmed to see this woman, previously well spoken and commanding succumbed like a small child full of fear at the world.  
He ached for her. He liked her. He made his approach more gentle then usual.

"Look, Ms. Munroe. I am informed you control the elements. Are you causing this.. un-forcasted weather?"

Ororo cast her eyes down.

"I am sorry. I am trying to quiet it."

He eyed her curiously. What an intriguing ability she possessed. It was then he realized there was nothing within their immediate grasp that could restrain her if she chose to leave or fly into a berserk rage. She was fighting to keep a level of control, knowing that she could level the entire place with a mere suggestion. Amazed that she humbled herself as far to be taken in, he found a new sense of appreciation and respect for the woman. Feeling a bit in fear of her, maybe that explained the next question he asked.

"What is bothering you?"

"I'm claustrophobic. I fear this enclosed space is setting off my emotions and the weather is reacting to them."

Almost instantly, he moved to the hallway and said something to the guard before returning.

"Then we'll put you somewhere else. Come with me."

Offering a hand to her, she took it.

"Thank you."

She managed to show courtesy among all this. What type of woman was this?

After a few minutes Ororo was relocated to a bigger room that housed a furnished couch, and two chairs. Definitely a step up from the bleak interrogation rooms. He also had some food brought up, which Ororo couldn't bring herself to eat. After a time, the rain all but stopped and concluding she was more comfortable, Billiard moved in for questioning. He approached it carefully, a fear present.

"Look Ms. Munroe. I'm going to need all the information you have on Remy Leabeau."

She paused as if formluting her words carefully. She never felt lying payed off, so chose to share general truths. They already had general truths.

"Remy and I go back ad least fifteen years. We grew up in New Orleans together. We both were a little misguided, true. But life is full of surprises, and you do what you can to get by when your orphaned and poor. We stole, probably more then we should. We robbed some banks, spent time in Juvenile centers. It's not one of my shining moments, but I served it learned my lesson and turned around. Look, I know your anxious to find answers to whatever went down with your department and those bombings, but this is the raw truth - I know Remy. He might be a thief, but he would never go as far to kidnap or murder anyone. He has his limits."

"What do you mean limits?"

"He's a thief, not an assassin. The two parties don't exactly mix."

"Are you referring to tha' Guilds creed?"

"I am referring to what I know of Remy. Nothing more nothing less."

Intrigued to find her telling the truth but deciding to hold back details all in the same breath, he pushed it a bit further.

"When is the last time you saw Remy?"

Ororo paused. She didn't want to say anything but that mornings events flooded through her mind . Billiard looked at her, almost sensing her doubts and it was then she knew her best defense to helping Remy was convincing him of his character. She was sure Billiard had a respect for her, especially after he said nothing when she told him and his men to stand down.

" Recently. But I don't know where he is."

"How recent?"

Should she? She had spoken enough already. But something screamed at her to tell the truth regardless.

"This morning."

At that Jackson head snapped.

"What time this morning and where?"

She should just shut her mouth right here, deny to share anything more. As it stood, she did have the upper edge. He was scared of her. The way he looked at her after she professed her control of the elements had sealed that. She didn't know why, but felt the urge to answer him anyway.

"Around 5:30 to 6:00. In New York. He left after that.. I'm not sure when."

There was a long pause after that bit of information, from which he said nothing. He took in that morsel like it had been a sealed confession all on its own but then excused himself when a sharp ring escaped his phone.  
He excused himself and was gone for a few minutes.  
Thinking back to herself, she wondered why she had said that. It was apparently not a good thing.  
It was back to convincing Billiard Remy wasn't involved in any of this. And that was something she was more determined to stress tooth and nail when he returned.

After a time,Jackson entered again, a bemused smirk on this face.

"You've got company, Ms. Munroe. Here, Change."

At that, he threw her the bag with her clothes and the rest of her belongings.  
Bewildered she took it. What was going on? After a few more minutes she was fully dressed and then escorted down the white washed hallway until they came up to the lobby.  
With much surprise, Ororo took in Forge standing there.  
A flood of feelings and confusion accompanying her.  
Well that would explain the abrupt departure, but then again, not really.

"Your free to go Ms. Munroe."

She walked slowly towards him as he signed a few papers, and then exchanged some glances between Billiard.  
Billiard walked past her again after noting the looks Forge gave him and then headed back in the direction she just came from, but not before put a hand on her arm.

"Thank you for being so understanding. My apologies for your discomfort."

As he began to leave, she stopped him.

"But what about..."

Jackson showed a passive look.

"I would not worry about it."

"What does that mean?"

"It means I am sorry for the confusion. Good day Ms. Munroe."

And at that, he removed his hand and continued on, the guards following suit behind him.  
Confused, she caught Forge eyeing her. Although he seemed to hold the same gaze she had grown accustomed too, it seemed different.  
Off.  
Something didn't sit well with her, but now was not the time nor the place to think on that.  
Walking towards him unable to hide her surprise, he was quick to respond to it.

"Wolverine filled me in on what happened. I came as quickly as I could."

Words seemed not to come to her. She was still too surprised over what just happened and how quickly it was squashed.  
Forge didn't like Remy, she remembered the look in his eyes that morning. Something wasn't right. Something was terribly off, but she pulled that thought from her mind.

"Are you okay, Ororo?"

She struggled before returning to a sense of normal.

"Yeah, um, thank you."

He smiled curtly, kissing her hand.

"Your welcome. Care to get out of here now?"

And with that he offered his hand, and she took it but spared a few glances back, thoughts flaring like wildfire.


End file.
